


October

by lemonsorbae



Series: Shoe Box Verse [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Halloween time!</p>
            </blockquote>





	October

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry bout the delay, friends. Life kind of got in the way of me finishing this fic when I actually wanted to. Anyway, to those still following this verse, THANK YOU!!! You're all such amazing dolls. 
> 
> Two more parts to go!
> 
> Beta'd by literaryoblivion and sweatermisha.

Dean stares through the window that outlooks the backyard, observing the trees whose leaves have turned to bright oranges, deep reds, and cheery yellows. He's been watching them on and off for the past week, anxious for the leaves to start falling. It should happen any day now.

There's still a little warm weather left in the year, just enough to push weak beams of sunlight through the clouds, their tired warmth landing in the kitchen and dusting over Dean's toes. Pretty soon, walking around barefoot will not be an option. At least this year they'll have adequate heating.

Behind him the front door opens and closes, signaling Castiel is home. The rustle of grocery bags accompanies his footsteps, and after a beat there are jacket clad arms wrapping around Dean's waist.

"Just where I left you," Castiel says.

Dean smiles even though Castiel can't see it. "I moved," he offers in his own defense. "Had to pee."

The deep rumble of Castiel's chuckle vibrates through Dean's bones, the feel of chapped lips brushing feather light across the back of his neck rising goose bumps on his skin.

"They aren't going to fall any faster just from your sheer will power, Dean," Castiel mutters, nosing along Dean's hairline.

Dean shivers. Castiel's nose is cold. "They might."

"You and your yard work fetish perplexes me."

"Hey," Dean says, turning in Castiel's arms until they're nearly nose to nose, "it's not a fetish, it's a hobby. And you just wait until you get to stand here and watch my ass while I rake. Then we'll see who's perplexed."

Castiel shakes his head as Dean smiles down at him, knowing and cheeky. "That's ridiculous. I would never watch you rake leaves."

Dean snickers. "Yeah, just like you'd never watch me work on the car, or when I'm out in the shop?"

"I do find your backside inspiring. In the artistic sense, of course," he responds, shrugging as if he doesn't have multiple moleskins dedicated just to the curve of Dean's ass.

Dean brushes his lips against Castiel's. "Of course."

The room falls quiet, the only sounds their mouths working together as Dean kisses the warm taste of autumn out of Castiel's mouth, pumpkin, and cinnamon, and chai.

"How was coffee with Balthazar?" Dean wonders in a terrible faux British accent. He walks over to dig through the grocery bags Castiel's set out on the counter, pulling out some of the things he asked Castiel to pick up, and ignoring the rest. Sure Balthazar is kind of helping Castiel build a sizeable career for himself, but Dean still thinks the guy's an ass.

"Productive," Castiel answers. "Someone who saw my art at Josie Sands' is interested in commissioning a few pieces. We should have something in writing by the end of next month."

Dean stops foraging for a moment to grin up at his fiancé, excitement rolling off of him in waves. Every time he thinks he could never be more proud of Castiel, he's proven wrong. "That's awesome, babe!"

Castiel nods. "It will be a nice commission if everything goes through."

"By nice you mean big," Dean clarifies.

"Yes, by nice I mean big."

"I like the sound of that."

Castiel lets out a small laugh. "I thought you would."

Dean looks back down at the bags and frowns, reaching for a bulk bag  of Smarties and holding it up for Castiel to see. "What is this?"

"Halloween candy. You said we needed some, though I doubt anyone is going to come here. We're out in the middle of nowhere, Dean."

Dean begins searching through the rest of the sacks for any other "Halloween candy" Castiel may have purchased. He finds nothing. "Okay, first of all, Cas, people are gonna come, okay? This house is going to go through a Halloween transformation that will blow your mind. And second of all, this?" Dean holds up the bag of Smarties again. "This is not Halloween candy. Nobody likes this shit. We need chocolate."

" _ I _ like Smarties," Castiel counters, frowning at Dean in the most adorable of ways.

"Yeah, well, you're a weirdo. Now c'mon." Dean crosses the kitchen, pulling his jacket off the stair banister as he goes and tugging on his boots at the door.

"Where are we going?" Castiel asks, trailing behind Dean with the bag of Smarties in his hands.

"We're going shopping. If we're going to be married, you're gonna need to know how to do this right."

Dean steps out onto the porch - ignoring the creak the steps make as his feet land on them - and walks along the dusty walkway down to where Castiel parked the Impala.

"This being?" Castiel inquires as he climbs into the car after Dean.

Dean looks at Castiel - his keys poised in the ignition - and smiles. " _Halloween_ ."

There's still about four days left before Halloween, but most of the candy has already been thoroughly combed through. It takes Dean a moment to find something he feels is acceptable, but when he does, he holds up the bag and shakes it at Castiel.

"This is what kids want. Stuff that doesn't taste like flavored chalk."

Castiel just blinks at Dean, unimpressed. "I'm beginning to sense there's something more going on with the Smarties than just a simple dislike."

Dean tosses three bags of  _real_ candy into the cart; two for the kids, one for Dean. Or, maybe they'll just split it all right down the middle... "Sense all you want, babe, but we're getting the chocolate."

Castiel shrugs. "Fine." He pops a Smartie into his mouth and crunches down on the candy, straight faced and uncaring. Dean shakes his head. The man has no taste.

Satisfied with their haul, he guides the cart around the corner and down the costume aisle. It's slim pickings, just like the candy, but Dean smiles as he digs out a pair of bumblebee bobbers and puts them on Castiel's head.

"You wanna be a bumblebee, Cas?" He asks, grining at Castiel's frown. He looks so damn adorable, it's almost ridiculous. Dean reaches over and tugs Castiel in so he can peck him on the cheek.

"We don't need to dress up to pass out candy, Dean."

"Sure we do," Dean replies, ruffling through doctor outfits, and gruesome masks. "The kids love it." He holds up a couple of costumes. "What do you think? Doctor? Or pirate?" He watches as Castiel contemplates both costumes before turning to look through the costumes himself.

After a minute or two, Castiel pulls out a knock-off Stetson and drops it onto Dean's head. "Cowboy," he says after only a second of observation. His eyes have darkened marginally, and Dean realizes Castiel may have a thing for the hat.

"Yeah?" Dean wonders with a crooked grin.

Castiel nods. "Yes."

"Alrighty then." Dean tosses the hat into the cart. It's followed by some wings for Castiel that he picks out himself, much to Dean's delight.

Dean grabs a couple more things he thinks are necessary, and then he and Castiel make their way up to the checkout stand.

Castiel is still wearing the bobbers.

Dean spends the next few days transforming their house into a Halloween extravaganza. He lines their walkway with paper lanterns that cast a soft glow over their yard at night and hangs bats from the tree in the yard. The porch gets donned with a life-sized scarecrow that Castiel insists is too scary, and intricately carved pumpkins that Dean and Castiel spent a good portion of their day on.

By the time Halloween rolls around, Castiel admits that if they do get trick-or-treaters, it will be solely because of Dean's decorations. Even Vincent, who's now running around the house with a small cape tied loosely around his neck, has been included in the festivities.

As night begins to fall, Dean sets out their candy and follows Castiel upstairs to dress in their costumes. Part of him is surprised Castiel actually agreed to dress up at all, let alone as a bumblebee. The other part of him is just so far gone on the guy he can't look at him in the costume without a dopey grin on his face and stars in his eyes.

Fucking beautiful artist with his effortless ability to wear a ridiculous outfit and still look like sex on legs. Damn him.

Dean shimmies into a pair of jeans that are just this side of too tight and pulls on the worn cowboy boots they found at a thrift store the previous day. Already dressed, Castiel watches him with clever eyes and a knowing smile.

"Tuck your shirt in, Winchester," he instructs when Dean snaps the last button on his plaid shirt.

Dean lets out a breathy laugh. "Don't know if I can," he admits. He makes an honest effort anyhow.

When the shirt is all tucked in, Castiel nods approvingly and holds up Dean's hat. Dean reaches across the open space between them, but Castiel shakes his head. "I'd prefer to do the honors if you don't mind."

Dean closes the space between them and bows his head slightly so Castiel can settle the hat over his crown. Dean looks up and cocks a lopsided grin at his fiance. "Whaddaya think?" he asks.

"I think the trick-or-treaters can wait," Castiel answers. His voice has gone rough, his pupils swallowing his irises. Dean smirks as Castiel grips the lapels of Dean's shirt and drags him in for a heated kiss, mouth open, and hands wandering.

It's less than a second before said hands are cupping Dean's ass, and every single nerve ending in his body comes to attention. His pants grow even tighter than before, and a want begins to curl low in his belly.

That's when the doorbell rings.

"Babe," Dean grunts as Castiel mouths along his jaw line, stubble scraping stubble.

"Mmmmm."

"Can you cool the hormones for a few hours?"

Castiel backs Dean against the nearest wall, his slender fingers going for the snap-buttons on Dean's shirt. "No."

Dean's head falls against the wall as Castiel pops open the buttons and thumbs over Dean's nipples, teasing them until they grow hard. " _Fuck_ ," Dean mutters, eyelids sliding shut.

He's uncomfortably hard in his jeans now, even the slightest pressure from Cas' thigh sending pleasure rippling through his tightly wound form. And yeah, it's a little ironic, being turned on by a fully grown man wearing bumblebee bobbers and a pair of wings he found in the little girl's section, but underneath that is  _Cas_ ,  _his_ Cas who's six feet of tanned, toned, and beautiful. Not even an absurd costume can erase the appeal of  _that_ .

As Castiel's fingers find the fly on Dean's jeans the doorbell rings again, cutting through the quickly building fog in Dean's brain.

"Cas," Dean manages as Castiel's lips come to rest over his Adam's apple. Dean's hands come up to land on Castiel's hips and he pushes gently until Castiel's lust blown eyes are blinking at him curiously. "Rain check?" Dean croaks, hating himself with every word.

Castiel's eyes rake down Dean's body, and he smirks. "You  _cannot_ answer the door like that."

Dean looks down at himself. His shirt hangs half open, his jeans showing off his obvious bulge, and if his face looks anything like it feels, he's flushed six ways to Sunday.

Castiel may have a point.

"Dammit you horny bastard," Dean barks, dragging Castiel in for a rough kiss, "you need to learn to keep your hands to yourself."

Castiel chuckles. "Noted." He hooks his fingers through Dean's belt loops and practically drags Dean to their mattress on the floor, kissing him breathless and shivering when Dean slips his hands up underneath the hem of his shirt.

He pushes Dean onto the mattress and quickly settles between his legs, working Dean's fly open and tugging him out of his underwear. For a moment he pauses to study Dean's length, rubbing a thumb over his slit, and collecting a droplet of sticky precome on his skin.

Dean watches, with breath held, as Castiel sucks his thumb into his mouth, eyes hooded and cheeks ruddy. "God _ damn _ ," Dean mumbles, tugging Castiel in for another kiss.

When they break apart Castiel skims his lips over Dean's chest and abdomen before taking Dean into his mouth and sucking like a champ.

Dean's eyes slam shut at the sudden wet heat enveloping him, and he reaches out a hand, going for Castiel's hair, grabbing a wing instead. The flimsy wire molds easily to his grasp.

Castiel pulls off of Dean, grinning up at him through his lashes, "Easy there, Cowboy."

Dean rolls his eyes. "You started this," he quips.

Castiel shakes his head. "It was your hat. It seduced me."

"You chose that hat!" Dean accuses him. Castiel looks thoughtful for a beat before nodding.

"I did," he agrees. A look of contended pride crosses his face, and then he's closing his mouth over Dean again and everything else melts away.

Within minutes that familiar tug Dean gets right before orgasm is building in his gut. He's desperate for it now, breath falling heavy and hands fisted in whatever is closest, the shoulder of Castiel's t-shirt and the sheets below him, he thinks. He can feel Castiel jerking himself as he works Dean to climax, and if he wasn't so close to falling headfirst into a wave of bliss, he'd offer to help the guy out. As it were, Castiel increases his suction, and Dean crests with a blinding pleasure that has his head falling back on the mattress and his eyelids fluttering closed again.

"Fuck," he breathes.

Castiel keeps his mouth on Dean, working him through his orgasm as his movements along his own length begin to stutter. As Dean's head begins to clear, he peels his eyes open just in time to see Castiel's mouth drop open and feel the spurt of warm come mix with his own along his lower abdomen.

It's a moment before Castiel allows himself to relax - his eyelashes falling dark and thick along his upper cheek bones as he rides out his orgasm, and Dean drinking in every breath the man lets out - but then he's dropping his forehead to Dean's chest and sighing contentedly.

A beat passes before the door bell rings again, and Castiel groans.

"I told you people were gonna come," Dean points out, running a hand through Castiel's mess of hair, bopping lightly with one finger at the bobbers that rest askew on Cas' head.

Castiel huffs a laugh against Dean's sternum. "Fuck me," he mutters.

Eventually they're able to collect themselves and make it downstairs to hand out candy. Dean's now sporting a hickey just below the collar of his shirt and Castiel's wings are a little rumpled, but other than that the kids aren't any the wiser.

After Halloween is all said and done, Castiel suggests they keep Dean's cowboy hat out for another week or so. Just in case.

Dean readily obliges.


End file.
